


For my Ex

by kitschyrichie



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, I Don't Even Know, M/M, This shit is sad, but in richies perspective, but this is sad, ill probably write a happy ending to this, just read it BECAHSE I just wrote about my day yesterday, no one dies, slight drug use but it’s just weed, the losers try to make Richie feel better after a break up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:58:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitschyrichie/pseuds/kitschyrichie
Summary: Richie is coping and his friends are helping. This is just everything that happened to me yesterday. Please read the authors notes (-,:





	For my Ex

**Author's Note:**

> literally my text messages from me and my ex as of today lmao. Life is funny and I’m in the mood to hurt. Every single text and the time frame is very much real. The only thing that didn’t happen to me was the very end. That wasn’t just an extra bit for the story.
> 
> PSA: This is just me writing about my day but forcing our baby richard to feel it and cry.

_1:13 pm Rich: hey, it's me. I have a lot of your stuff, I don't really want to toss it out but I can't really keep it here anymore._

 

_1:22 pm Eds: Is Tuesday after 4:15 a good time for it to be grabbed_

 

_1:23 pm Rich: working, so not really._

 

_1:25 pm Eds: You can't leave it on your porch?_

 

_1:26 pm Rich: I don't really want you to be near my house when my family is around is all. I figured I could just leave it on your car or somethin I don't know_

 

_1:28 pm Eds: If you were planning on doing that then you can leave it on my porch_

 

_1:28 pm Rich: also I'm kind of a piece of shit and wanna talk, but if that's no good then leaving it somewhere is definitely fine_

_1:28 pm Rich: oh okay cool_

 

_1:37 pm Eds: Okay thank you_

 

Richie felt his stomach lurch, feeling his phone buzzing underneath the palm of his hand only to see countless texts from Beverly.

 

_1:30 pm Bev: Remember_

_1:31 pm Bev: Once u do this_

_1:31 pm Bev: You are gone_

_1:31 pm Bev: Done***_

_1:31 pm Bev: Done with anxiety from him at least_

_1:31 pm Bev: What did he say_

_1:31 pm Bev: Richie_

_1:31 pm Bev: Hello??? Rich????_

 

_1:36 pm Richie: just asked when_

_1:36 pm Richie: I’m gonna just drop it off_

 

_1:38 pm Bev: Good idea_

_1:38 pm Bev: Don’t stay around and chat_

 

_1:38 pm Richie: yeah_

 

_1:38 pm Bev: Just drop it off and go_

_1:38 pm Bev: Good_

  


Richie dropped his phone, the music from his Spotify ringing throughout the room. He looked around, the countless mementos and memories from his relationship with Eddie scattered all over his bed. He’d neatly packed a majority of the small knick knacks into a shoe box, the countless letters Eddie wrote him at the very bottom. He hoped he’d possibly read them, silently begging God that Eddie would read them and remember how he’d felt about Richie all those months ago. When did things change?

 

Polaroids upon Polaroids littered his bed, a case filled with CDs sitting beside them. In a fit of frustration, Richie had scribbled down his favorite songs, his playlist made exclusively for Eddie, before writing on the back, _I’ve gotta put these on a CD, but you’ll love them_. He ended up crumpling up the paper to make it seem like he’d written it months ago, instead of in a fit of rage.

 

An old video recorder sat at the edge of his bed, threatening to fall off the edge. He was too scared to charge it and watch the heartbreaking scenes of him and Eddie hiking, dancing, living their lives together. Promising to stay with one another and never leaving.

 

_What a fucking joke._

 

At the floor of his bed was a bowl of water, with a Polaroid picture he’d set aflame in a fit of annoyance. Thinking it would’ve made him feel better, he watched as the side caught on fire and ultimately ruined the face of the person he’d seen with his (now)ex countless times:

 

_Henry fucking Bowers._

 

He looked at the burnt and distorted picture floating in the now black and ash filled water. The smell of burnt plastic did nothing to make Richie feel even remotely better. He opened up his window and left to shower, he needed to get away from it all.

 

He walked into the bathroom, turning on the seedy yellow lights illuminating above the double mirrors. The light was barely there, they needed to be changed. He gave himself a long look, his eyes looking over his greasy, disgusting hair. He could feel his mouth, running over teeth that felt like moss, it was repulsive. His shoulders and back were scratched and red, a habit he’d picked up after Eddie left him. Scratching. _Everywhere._ From his scalp to the back of his neck. His shoulders and back got the worst of it. Soon small scars from constant scratching began to form, and scabs and fresh wounds littered his body.

 

_Repulsive._

 

He turned on the shower, letting it heat until it was near scorching. He always preferred colder showers, just slightly below body temperature. _Rich! It’s too cold!_ Eddie needed it at least scalding or else he would freeze. It was a fond memory, Richie and Eddie arguing over whether or not it should be hot or cool. It was a treat when his parents remodeled his bathroom with two shower heads, Eddie was _very_ happy.

 

He stepped inside the steaming shower, wincing at the direct contact of heat burning his flesh. He forced himself to stand under the spray, wincing at the sting of his open wounces on his back, but he continued. He pushed his face into the water, holding his breath and forcing himself to stay under its heat until he couldn’t breathe. He pulled away, breathing hard as he slowly began to wash his hair.

 

_Three pumps of shampoo, then three pumps of conditioner. You’re supposed to wash yourself before you wash your hair, silly!_

 

“Three pumps, three pumps,” He mumbled to himself, lathering the shampoo in his dirty hair. Once he rinsed the soap out, he got to the conditioner, then turned off the shower. He slipped out, humming quietly to himself as he changed into his outfit for the day. He looked down at his body, frowning at what he saw in the mirror? Was he gaining weight? No. That couldn’t have been it.

 

Well, he hadn’t been working out as rigorously as he used to when he was dating…

 

He was _fine._

 

His legs were a splotchy red from the heat of the shower. He ignored it. He forced his jeans on, then his shirt, before looking at his hair. He shook it out for a moment, deeming it not necessary to brush it.

 

His eyes glanced over at his phone, looking down at the messages Stan had sent him.

 

_1:59 pm Stanlio: we’re ready but no rush_

_2:00 pm Richie: hey yeah. I’m just packing up my exes stuff right now._

 

Richie scratched the back of his neck, huffing quietly as he looked himself over in the mirror. He looked okay, didn’t he? Was a white shirt okay? Or would pink suit the look better? Maybe red? Maybe black? He couldn’t fucking decide.

 

_2:03 pm Mike: Damn okay, let us know when you are all good_

 

_2:10 pm Ben: You getting rid of the stuff you dont want?_

 

_2:27 pm Richie: yeah_

_2:27 pm Richie: it’s something._

 

_2:28 pm Stan: it’s good to finally do that_

 

_2:33 pm Richie: I guess_

_2:33 pm Richie: I don’t know why my dumbass decided to do it today._

 

_2:33 pm Bill: Because you hate us_

_2:33 pm Stanlio: Obviously_

 

_2:48 pm Richie : You guys said be ready by two or three!_

 

_2:48 pm Benny Boy: we’re messing with ya, come over whenever_

 

Richie sighed heavily, grabbing onto his fanny pack and slinging it over his shoulder before walking out the door. _Fanny packs are so in right now, Richie!_ He locked his home, before strolling to his car. A car with countless memories inside. He climbed into his rickety old 4Runner and rummaged through the console to find old receipts with shitty handwritten notes on the back.

 

_This receipt is from when we went apple picking in Julian._

_This receipt was from when we had to get gas before hitting Jacumba._

 

Richie glared at them, crumpling them up and tossing them into the pack of his car. He didn’t _care._ None of it mattered once the love of your life has had it with things you can’t change about yourself. He started it up, hearing the dull creak of his car coming back to life as it tittered off in the direction of Bill’s home.

 

When he made it to Bills, he was immediately greeted by his friends. “Richie! Hey, you do not look ready for the beach, but that’s okay.” Beverly gave his side a nudge, while the rest of the losers came out in shorts and beach attire. Richie just stared blankly at them all, “‘m not getting in.”

 

——————

 

Richie was ultimately, shoved into the water, jeans and all.

 

“Fuckin’ _assholes.”_ He sat up, a small grin breaking out over his features as he looked himself over. Completely drenched, with water clinging to every last bit of him. His now see through, white shirt clung to his torso, which had Stan staring for too long.

 

“ _Hey.”_ Bill snapped his fingers in front of Stan, whose eyes flickered up to Bill. He smiled sheepishly, before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

 

“I didn’t know we were gonna get jealous over our single friends now.”

 

“I didn’t know we were allowed to ch-check out our s-single friends.”

 

“Stop flirting with each other and fuck around in the ocean with us!” Richie shouted as Bev threw her body at him, causing them to both topple over into the water.

 

The day was spent with close friends, waves, and sun. The waves were uncharacteristically high that day, the sun bled through puffy white clouds and the wind whipped gently over them.

 

The group spent hours at the beach, roaming through the beaches and running through the small beach town of OB. Antique shops were littered everywhere, liquor stores merged with Mexican food shops and surfboard rentals on every corner. They walked the pier, pushing by each other and looking at the fish that had been caught by the fisherman that day. At some point, Richie had nearly fell over the pier while attempting to sit on the edge, then nearly stepped on a hook with his bare feet.

 

“ _Okay,_ you’re dangerous when you’re having fun. Let’s go somewhere where you can survive?” Ben suggested, slowly nudging them back off the pier and snickering when Richie grumbled to himself.

 

_6:59 pm Eds: What do you want to talk about_

 

Richie stared at his phone for a long time, his body stopping on the spot while his friends continued to walk. He felt the painful lurch in his stomach as he reread the message over and over again.

 

_What do you want to talk about?_

 

_What the fuck do you think? Why’d you leave? Why’d you fucking dump me as your boyfriend? And then completely ghost me as your friend when I asked you if you had a new fucking boyfriend?_

 

Richie sucked in a heavy breath, before shoving his phone in his pocket and stalking off to meet up with his friends. He didn’t need to ruin his day just yet.

 

——————

 

After ordering a pizza, they ultimately decided to stay over at Ben’s for the night, since his parents were the only ones that slept early and woke up early, leaving the group to themselves.

 

Also, weed. They loved smoking just as much as Richie.

 

“Let’s get fucking _wrecked,_ where are your parents edibles?” Richie murmured as he hopped up on the counter, the squelching sound of his wet body hitting the granite making him wince. “Second thought, I’m gonna change out of this, you can get your stash without me looking, Benny boy.”

 

Ben yelped when Mike raised the bag over Ben’s head, snickering when he tossed it to Beverly, who nearly bounced up and down in excitement. Richie made quick work to change out of his clothes, deciding on a pair of Ben’s sweats and a simple shirt. He stalked down the stairs and glanced at his phone that sat on the counter, ultimately deciding to respond. “Let’s get fucked up?” Richie snagged the candy bag from Beverly’s hand and took an edible, eating it in one go.

 

“Uh, that’s definitely going to fuck you up.” Stan said flatly.

 

“Why did you guys not cut them in half? You _know_ Richie has no sense of self control!” Beverly hissed, taking an entire strip of candy for herself.

 

“You _guys!_ Stop!” Ben hissed, snatching the candy edibles out of her hand. He handed the rest of the group a half each, rolling his eyes when Richie and Beverly high fived.

 

_8:09 pm Richie: lmao honestly it's whatever we don't have to talk_

 

_8:17 pm Eds: I just wanted to know what you wanted to talk about_

 

_8:59 pm Richie: Honestly???? Just how you've been idk, then we would've gone our separate ways after like five minutes_

 

_9:17 pm Eds: okay_

 

Richie looked down at his phone for a long time, a small sigh falling from his lips. “I miss Eddie,” he mumbled, sinking down into the couch. He didn’t even remember moving from the kitchen to the couch, but he couldn’t care less anymore.

 

He closed his eyes, humming softly to himself. Everything felt so warm. He could feel his own heart rate spiking. His body was heavy, it felt as though he had kaleidoscopes over his eyes, he couldn’t truly _see._ But it was incredible. How long had he been likethis? For hours? Days? Minutes, probably. Where was his Eddie? He missed him.

 

_“Well I don’t miss you.” Richie jerked up, seeing Eddie staring at him with dead eyes and a feral growl. “Worthless trash, pointless, not cute, I fucking hate you Richie, Richie, Richie—“_

————

“Richie!” Eddie hissed,  shaking him awake. Richie awoke with a start, gripping onto Eddie’s arm and wincing at the sudden light from the sun washing over his face.

 

“What the fuck—“ he grumbled, rubbing at his eyes fiercely before he cracked them open. He looked at Eddie, a small huff of breath leaving him. “I had a bad dream?” He questioned quietly, looking around at where he was. In his home, naked. Next to Eddie, who was naked?

 

“Yeah, babe. What the fuck happened?” Eddie moved in to get closer to Richie, running a hand up and down Richies bare chest.

 

Richie gave Eddie a long look, still confused. “You just left? I guess. But you’re here. You’re really here. I’m not jus’ high though, right? This feels real…” Richie mumbled, his fingers trailing up and down Eddie’s arm.

 

“I’m real, Richie. I love you.” The look in Eddie’s eyes made Richie shiver. He supposed he’d know if it were a dream in a few hours or not.

 

It was.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I hated experiencing it! Lmao!


End file.
